The Contract
by callafallon
Summary: When Scarlett tells Rhett that she wants no more babies he turns the tables on her.
1. Chapter 1

Up until this afternoon, Rhett Butler had been happy.

That fact, in and of itself, was quite foreign to him. He'd been a hedonist and a libertine, going from one pleasure to another, but he'd never been able to call himself happy. He'd been sated and satisfied but never happy. At least not until the day he'd said "I Do".

The irony was not lost on him. Most married men looked back on their wedding day as the beginning of the end. They would have gladly traded their domesticity for one night of the debauchery that Rhett had once reveled in. It had been a surprise, albeit a pleasant one, for Rhett to discover how much he really enjoyed married life.

It wasn't the house that so pleased him. The truth was that he felt like he was living in a particularly gaudy brothel with its bold colors and rich fabrics.

And marriage hadn't exactly meant settling down. Scarlett had kept him busy with parties and dances and events that lasted all hours of the night. He probably got more rest during his bachelor days than his married ones, at least before Scarlett fell pregnant.

He couldn't help by smile at the thought of his newborn daughter. The moment he held that little angel in his arms he felt so unbelievably lucky. More so than anytime he'd managed to draw into an Inside straight. Marrying Scarlett was a gamble but he'd hit the jackpot.

Family. That was the one thing that had always been missing in his life. Even before his father disowned him Rhett had never thought much of family. They were just people who tried to change him and limit him in the name of propriety. He'd spent so many years trying to not put down roots that he never realized what he'd been missing.

He'd married Scarlett because he couldn't imagine having to see her with someone else. But the unexpected pleasure came from creating a family with her. Wade was a smart and sweet young man who looked up to Rhett with more respect than anyone else on Earth had ever given to him. And he'd wanted Ella to be his daughter from the moment he noticed the bump through Scarlett's clothing. Bonnie was just the icing on the cake, a new life he would get to mold and shape from day one. His children would be a legacy that would outlive his bad deeds and give him a chance at immortality through them.

At least that had been the plan until this afternoon when Scarlett so coolly announced that there would be no more children. Three children would have been fine if that was what fate had planned for them. Even if Scarlett had come to him to discuss her concerns, they could have talked it over they way they used to talk about everything. But the fact that she and Ashley Wilkes were now dictating his future, well that was the galling part.

He'd come to Belle's tonight to live up to his. He'd gone to his old room, the one that had sat unused since the day of his engagement, as Belle cooed and soothed him as he knew she would.

"You're distraught," she said, patting his hand. "I can't say I'm

surprised to see you here today. Hell, I'm surprised it took you this long to show up. But now you're here and I'll fix you right up. You tell Belle exactly what you want and she'll make it happen."

Rhett smiled. What he wanted. How long had it been since Scarlett asked him what he wanted? His smile turned bitter as he realized that was what he wanted. He'd trade anything to have Scarlett here right now showing some concern for his desires.

An image came to his mind of Scarlett, dressed in her mother's green portieres, begging him to help her with Tara. In this fantasy they were not in the jail, but in his hotel room at National, where he leaned in a fine leather chair and watched Scarlett plead her case.

"I have the money," he said absently, as if it was nothing to him.

"I'll do anything. Anything you want Rhett, just please help me. I'm begging you."

"Begging? I might believe that if you were on your knees."

There was a flash of furry in her green eyes before she gave in. Looking like a broken stallion she slowly sank to her knees. Her voice trembled, on the edge of tears as she looked down at the plush carpet of the room.

"You're the only person left in the world who can help me. If you don't… I don't know what I'll do."

Still looking down she saw his fine black leather boots before her.

Rhett reached out his hand deftly removed her hat. His fingers started running through her thick straight black hair, pulling pins carefully as it went.

She was like a feral cat, at first nervous about being pet but soon leaning into each caress. The sight of the Scarlett kneeling before him looking so vulnerable, so completely at his mercy, was stirring him greatly. When she finally looked up Scarlett was face to face with a buldge in his pants.

The shock on her face only lasted a moment before she licked her lips. "Rhett, you know how much I love Tara. I would do anything for it. Anything that you want."

"Rhett," Belle's sharp voice said, taking him away from the fantasy.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"That I felt sorry for you having to put up with that woman. Now, you let me take care of you. I can get you anything you want, you just say the word."

Rhett downed another shot. He couldn't get her the one thing he wanted. Scarlett. What a strange position he was in; a married man who wanted to have an affair with his wife. But that was the situation. There was no whore that could sate his need for her. Besides why should he have to pay for favors from Belle's girls while still paying the bills his wife created? Didn't she owe him something? In a flash the answer was obvious. Even in his drunken state he could recognize the simply brilliance of the arrangement. He dismissed Belle with the remainder of the Whisky bottle as he began to put the plan together.

****

As most things that happened in her life, the details of evicting Rhett from her bed happened without any attention from Scarlett. That afternoon Rhett had gone back to the children, where he spoke to them in the polite and interested voice he never spared for his wife, and she went down to her office to work. By the time she came out all of Rhett's thing had been moved to the room across the hall and it was as if he'd never been there in the first place.

There had been a time, not so long ago, when Scarlett had been obsessed with the smallest minutia. From exactly how many seeds were planted at Tara, to every penny in the till at Frank's store, even to the size of the fringe on in the hall of her new home. But now that she was firmly married to Rhett she no longer had to be concerned about these things. She didn't have to worry about anything really. It was almost as if she was a child again living at home and having parents who took care of the mundane details of life while she could just have fun.

It had been so long since she'd been forced to actually think about the details that at first she wasn't sure what to do when, at breakfast, there was no longer chocolate pastries waiting for her. Or what to say about the fact that there was only vanilla ice cream instead of strawberry served after dinner. It wasn't until an order of dresses arrived with all of Ella's little gowns but missing everything Scarlett had ordered for herself that she couldn't avoid the détails anymore.

When she stopped by to inquire, loudly, what had happened she was told that Mr. Butler had canceled her order. It was the same answer she heard when she came home and asked about the new menu. It appeared as if Rhett had finally tightened the reigns. When she confronted him about it Rhett had only looked disappointed. "It took you long enough to notice," he remarked. "Oh, stop looking so disgruntled. The part of the wronged wife has never suited you. Besides, I married a businesswoman. I assume you know enough about contracts to understand what is going on."

"I understand that you are acting like one of the children. Which I suppose is only appropriate since you spend all your free time with them."

"Not all my time," he interrupted with a glint in his eyes. Scarlett just knew he was trying to taunt her about where he was spending his evenings these days, but she refused to think about that.

"Stop going behind my back and playing these silly games. I'm going to have the things I want and you are not going to stop me."

"Of course not. I never could stop you. But I will refuse to pay the bills. After all, darling, we did have a deal. Surely you remember our arrangement? The day of our engagement I admitted that I wanted you more than any other woman and you admitted your deep feelings for my money. We entered a verbal contract that moment, sealed with a kiss. You got access to my money and I got access to you."

"You make me sound like some type of... well, like I'm no different from one of those girls that you…"

"A woman of easy virtue? One of General Hooker's girls? A member of the world's oldest profession?"

"You are disgusting!"

Rhett shrugged. "I suppose, but I'm also the one in control here. Now I'll continue to support your children. Wade and Ella shouldn't be punished because of your misdeeds. But you will need to pay your own way, at least as long as you refuse to hold up your end of our arrangement."

Scarlett wasn't listening anymore, her mind too busy running numbers. She wanted to tell Rhett that she had plenty of money of her own, and she was well off, but that was only on paper. She'd never heeded Rhett's warning about keeping money liquid, and so all of her money was locked up either in land or investments in the store and mills. She'd come to expect Rhett's money taking care of her personal expenses and so she hadn't planned on needing anything from the businesses. Oh, she could get it. But it would mean losing out on opportunities to grow the businesses. Besides, the truth was that she missed Rhett in her bed. She'd hardly been able to sleep with him gone. Now that she had the big bed to herself she no longer sprawled across it the way she had when Rhett was there. Instead she slept in a ball on her side of the bed, as if she was afraid to tread over to his side and realize he was really gone.

"Fine," she said with an oddly satisfied smile on her face, "you can move back in."

"No. I don't think so. Don't look so hurt, sweetheart, it isn't that I don't want to share your bed. I just don't have much use to sleep in it. No point in confusing the situation like that."

Feeling unusually helpless Scarlett lashed out. She grabbed a glass from the table and threw it at Rhett. He laughed as he dodged it, and two more that followed.

"That's my girl!" he said cheerfully. "Be aware I will have to add the cost of that little outburst to your bill. Now, would you like to start working it off tonight?"

"I'd rather kiss a Yankee."

Rhett allowed himself to look at his wife, high color on her cheeks and nostrils flaring. God, she looked beautiful. In these moments when she was totally without any façade she was more desirable than any other woman in the world.

"Scarlett," he said, lust turning his voice into an animalistic growl. "Tonight I'll be dining at the National. If you have any desire on keeping your side of out marital bargain I suggest you join me."

He was out of the room when he heard another glass shattering against the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment Rhett walked into the dining room of the National he wondered if he'd made a mistake. The head waiter had prepared the best table in the house for the him. Located in the center of the room directly under a grand crystal chandelier, it allowed the best opportunity to see and be seen in the new high society. While the Butler's had been living in the hotel during the early months of their marriage they'd shared this table for meals that would last late into the evening. He would have been happy taking meals up with the children up in their rooms, but Scarlett would pout that her beautiful dresses went to waste just being seen by the family and servants. He would call her vain and spoiled but then give into her wishes.

As he looked at the table he could see them, sitting in a mostly empty room long after their after-dinner coffee had gone cold and talking. Scarlett would ask his advice in business matters, ignore his thoughts on her plans for their home, and keep him up on all the latest gossip. He would tell her outrageous stories, tales from his youth as well as complete fabrications of his imagination, until her eyelids would begin to droop with fatigue. Even then she'd swear she wasn't sleepy, the same way Wade and Ella would argue that they weren't tired even as they were falling under the sandman's spell.

He didn't allow himself to think about what would happen after that. How he'd walk her up to their suite, one arm securely around her waist, and then slowly remove her clothes. Too tired to put up her usual resistance against his overtures she would simply lean into his caresses and kisses. It was one of the few times that he could actually please her.

On their wedding night Rhett had been completely unprepared for Scarlett's behavior in the bedroom. He'd known that she hadn't had much enjoyment in her first two marriages and he had spent their engagement imagining her reaction as he introduced her to the delights of the flesh. He'd expected Scarlett to be shy and virginal, and he was prepared to slowly win her over. But she wasn't nervous, she was terrified. She jumped at his every touch and tensed anytime he moved his mouth away from the safety of her lips. After he had tried every trick he knew to try and please her she'd simply whispered, in a numb voice, "Please, just get this over with."

He'd acquiesced to her demands, as he always did.

"Mr. Butler? Is there a problem with the table?"

Rhett was pulled from his thoughts by the anxious waiter. Of course the man had no way to know what tonight really was. The staff probably saw this as Rhett taking his wife out for their first night out since the birth of a child. They seemed to think that romance was the point of this evening when, in reality, it was the last thing on his mind.

"Do you have anything... more discreet?" Rhett asked as he removed a folded bill from his pocket. "Maybe something away from the other patrons? Something where we won't be disturbed?"

The man's eyebrows rose inquisitively but he complied and shifted direction to a secluded spot in the corner of the room shadowed by two marble pillars. Rhett slipped the man the generous tip with the promise if he was able to make sure that the nearby tables were left empty.

A bottle of the finest wine was brought out before he could order it and as Rhett savored the vintage his eyes kept darting to the entrance. When she finally appeared, a vision in a champagne color gown that clung almost indecently to her body, still rounded in all the right places from her recent pregnancy. Her back was ramrod straight as she walked to his table, although he couldn't tell if that was on account of her nervousness or an overly tight corset.

"I'm glad you decided to come."

Scarlett narrowed her eyes as he filled her wine glass. "It isn't as if you gave me much of a choice."

"Okay. If that's the story you want to tell yourself I'll play along. I've no problem playing the part of the villain, if that's what you wish."

"Since when have you given a damn about my wishes," Scarlett snapped. "All you care about is keeping me as some brood mare so you can have a new brat to make a fool of yourself over every year."

He grabbed her wrist across the table. From across the room it seemed to be a passionate embrace, the happy couple holding hands over a meal. But his grip was not tender or caring. He didn't care if he hurt her, in fact he almost hoped he did.

"Do not ever refer to my daughter as a brat. In fact, I think things would go better this evening if you took care not to mention the children at all."

"Are you sure? I didn't know that you spoke about anything else these days."

As quickly as he'd grabbed her he released his hold. With a gambler's eye he watched her expression surprised by the amount of jealousy she was showing on the topic of Bonnie. But that didn't make sense. The only person she was ever jealous of was Melanie Wilkes, and that was because that good woman had the attention of Scarlett's true love. Why she'd have the same feelings towards Bonnie...

He mused over this particular puzzle as they ate a silent meal. Scarlett only picked at her food, even going so far as to decline any dessert.

"Is your vanity finally overcoming your gluttony?" Rhett asked after the plates were cleared.

"I'm just not very hungry, especially when I'm not sure if the meal is going to be added to my debt."

He lit a cigar, taking time in every action as he debated his next move. Once this was done there would be no undoing it. By cementing their marriage as nothing more than a business arrangement he was closing off the possibility of it ever becoming anything more. His heart ached at the thought of giving up on the long held dream to make her love him. But even more powerful than the stirrings of his heart was the thought in his darkest mind. Taking Scarlett the way he'd always wanted to, with no concern of trying to make her comfortable. He wouldn't be waylaid by her pleas for him to just be done with it. Instead, he could show her all of the passion he had kept hidden out of fear of being weak.

"Before I lay out my terms," he stalled, "Was there anything you wanted to bring to the negotiations?"

Over dinner she just kept thinking about how helpless she was. Rhett could divorce her if she denied him his marital rights. Or he could stay with her and make her life a living hell. She was tired of fighting losing battles against Rhett Butler. "No," Scarlett said quietly. "It isn't as if I have much of a bargaining position. This really is all in your hands."

Rhett reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. "I trust you remember how to find your way to the Honeymoon Suite?" She just nodded passively. "I want you to change into the nightgown that is on the bed and then take a seat at the vanity. When I come in I want you to do everything I ask, no questions and no comments. Do you understand?"

Scarlett took the key and nodded. As she walked upstairs she felt a peace descend over her body. For as long as she could remember she'd been fighting. First it had been fighting for Ashley, and then fighting to stay alive, and now fighting to best Rhett Butler.

Her mind flashed to the time during the war when Ashley had been taken prisoner by the Yankees. She remembered being so annoyed with him for clinging to his honor instead of taking the easy way out and simply giving the Yankees what they wanted. She'd even told Rhett that, in the same situation, she would have gladly feigned defeat to have freedom. Wasn't that what she was doing? Just giving in to the wishes of a clearly superior enemy?


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting in the moonlit Honeymoon Suite, Scarlett couldn't help but admire the beauty of the stranger looking at her through the mirror. The reflection was young looking and vivacious with creamy skin and silky hair. It wasn't at all how Scarlett felt. How she had felt since discovering she was pregnant with Bonnie. Scarlett saw herself as fat and old, with a body that wasn't her own.

That unsettling truth washed over her. Her body really wasn't her own anymore. Apparently it belonged to Rhett and he was going to lay his claim tonight. Even as she thought about what was about to come she wasn't afraid. Not nearly as afraid as she had been her first time in this room after their wedding reception.

She had spent that entire day worrying about what would happen once they were alone. Rhett was handsome and had a reputation with women, she certainly enjoyed his kisses more than any other man. She was sure that it had to be less painful and awkward than relations had been in her previous marriages. That wasn't what worried her. The physical adversity had never been what turned her off of intimacy but the feelings that the act always brought up in her.

For the brief minutes when Charles Hamilton was consummating their marriage Scarlett just stared at the ceiling silently screaming at herself to stop this. She could have. She could have annulled her marriage that first night, before he'd even touched her, and people would have understood. But she had chosen this path and so she closed her eyes and prayed that it would be over quickly.

It was even worse with Frank. She had actively pursued him, even though it was for a good cause. But as he struggled to breathe, writhing on top of her, she could only sit and blame herself for this situation. The guilt was even worse than her disgust.

And Rhett… well, by the time Rhett came along she was like a beaten dog that flinched whenever anyone raised a hand in its presence. Even if it's new owner had been nothing but kind the animal was conditioned to fear.

Scarlett smoothed the satin nightdress that had been waiting for her. Like all of the clothes Rhett chose for her it was perfect; a deep purple color that contrasted with her eyes to make them stand out. It was nothing she would have ever chosen for herself, there was a deep cut V in the chest and a slit on both sides of the gown that she would have labeled as indecent. But Rhett had made her wear it, and so she was absolved of all responsibility. It was strangely freeing, although it also was very confusing so she didn't think about it anymore.

Feeling suddenly self conscious, Scarlett turned to the door to see Rhett standing there, watching her with unhidden interest.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked.

He was undressing, tossing his suit jacket and suit tie on a nearby dressing table without much care. In a low voice he reminded her of the rules.

"I said no questions. Do you understand?"

She nodded, turning her head down to look at her hands that were shaking slightly. She was nervous and that gave him hope. Rhett had spent a half-hour standing outside the door. He hadn't been so scared since his 16th birthday when his Uncle had taken him to his first whorehouse. If Scarlett had a sudden burst of her O'Hara bravado he would have crumbled like a mudwall in the rain.

This was unsteady ground for them. Rhett had become used to the familiar choreography of their interaction. He'd tease, she'd pout, he'd mock, she'd slap. They knew the steps by heart as they performed the ritual, but it wasn't a dance. For their to be a dance someone needed to lead and the other had to follow. For the first time in their acquaintance Scarlett was giving him the reigns but all he could think about was the tremendous responsibility that came with them.

Scarlett was still looking away and it made him feel safe. She couldn't talk. Couldn't argue with him or strike back some bitter retort. "You look beautiful," he said honestly. "I meant to tell you that downstairs when you were in that beautiful dress. I wish I could pretend you were wearing that for me, but it's been so long since you've cared about pleasing me."

Scarlett kept her eyes downward until she saw Rhett's fine leather shoes step into her field of vision. She swallowed dryly as his presence overwhelmed her and she waited, her heart pounding in her head. Finally she felt his hand tangled in her thick hair. With a soft pull he forced her face upwards to look at him.

She'd first notice how handsome he was when they were honeymooning, but it was always a dark attractiveness that matched his roguish reputation. She'd likened him to a pirate or a panther, but in this moment he no longer looked predatory. In fact, there was something soft about his wry expression, and when he briefly turned his mouth into a smile she found herself returning it.

"That's my girl. Now stand up sweetheart." Mechanically she did as she was told. Rhett took her hands in his and placed them on his chest. His heart was beating so wildly that she pulled back for a moment. "I want you to undress me."

With shaking hands she began working on the buttons, carefully pushing them through each hole until his bare chest was exposed. With a shrug he'd removed the shirt, tossing it behind him. Slowly her hands moved down to his pants where they hovered for a moment. Before she could do anything else Rhett had pulled her against his unyielding chest and kissed her in a way he hadn't since the day he asked to marry her. His tongue was thrusting deeply into her mouth, stroking against hers until she began to follow his actions. His hands were lost in her hair trying to pull her closer as if he wanted to devour her whole. Scarlett's own hands were still at Rhett's waistband where she could feel his manhood become harder. Without any thought she pushed her hand against the bulge causing him to moan and grind against her.

In a quick move he lifted her so she was sitting on the vanity table, her legs on either side of his strong form. When he finally broke their kiss his mouth moved down her neck and shoulder until he'd taken the thin strap of the nightdress in his teeth. Scraping the skin he pulled it down past her shoulder so that her breast was exposed. "Rhett, what are you doing?" She clasped her hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake. He didn't seem to notice the slip, instead he moved his mouth against her breast like a hungry child. Later on, alone in her bed, Scarlett would blush at the thought of this unnatural act.

Those thoughts would haunt her later on but at the moment she only knew that every time he moved his tongue against her sensitive nipple it caused something in her core to clench tightly. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced but even more powerful was the sight of Rhett looking up at her with a look of total devotion. She began to stroke his hair as he continued to tease her, not stopping his frantic mouth until she was panting to breathe.

While she had been distracted he had removed his trousers and began sliding the silk gown to her waist. They both looked down as the space between them disappeared when Rhett deftly entered her welcoming core. They stared into each others eyes he froze inside of her. The world became small encompassing only the lovers who now were beginning to thrust against each other. Scarlett wrapped her legs around Rhett's back, squeezing him deeper and deeper until it felt as if they were one person.

"Scarlett," he moaned against her ear, running his teeth along the lobe. "You're mine. Completely and totally mine, aren't you?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice sounding far away. With each thrust Scarlett felt herself slipping down into some unexplored abyss. It was a dark and deep pool that threatened to swallow her whole, and she jumped in. Tilting her hips slightly until she'd hit some unknown pleasure spot that made her breath catch. Her eyes caught her reflection in the vanity mirror. Rosy cheeks, moist lips and sparking eyes stared back as she viewed their union from this different angle. For the first time in months Scarlett actually felt connected to the woman she saw in the mirror. This wanton and scandalous woman seemed more like herself than the well groomed great lady that she'd been trying to be. Feeling the change in her Rhett began driving harder and faster while watching her face strain on the verge of release. With one final stroke he felt the clenching of her orgasm and was pulled along. They stayed intertwined for minutes exchanging soft kisses and caresses. Finally, sadly, Rhett pulled away and sat on the bed with his eyes closed.

"It's getting late," he said. "I'm going to go home. Why don't you stay here for the night?"

"You're leaving?"

"Well, that is usually how these things go." He was back on the defensive. It wasn't anything she'd done. Not really. But he'd allowed himself to be far too weak in their encounter. He needed to get to safer ground. But he could never deny her anything if she really wanted it. "Do you want me to stay Scarlett?"

"No," she lied "I think it's probably best if you leave."

And like that the connection they'd shared earlier evaporated like morning dew in the summer sun. That night they would both lie awake in their respective beds wondering if that moment of union had only been a hallucination or if maybe, just maybe, it was something more.


	4. Chapter 4

Scarlett tossed and turned throughout the night as she tried to find  
sleep. Even with her well honed skills at avoiding difficult topics  
she couldn't help but ruminate on the events that had happened that  
evening.

There was a moment when they were together when she'd felt as if  
things were different. When he entered her, melting into her body  
until it felt as if he were becoming part of her very soul, there was  
a brief second when things were perfect. Instead of her mind being  
filled with the thousand of thoughts that were constant barrage of  
thoughts and worries-concerns about her businesses, guilt over her  
past deeds, the nagging doubts of her own place in the world- it all  
disappeared. The only thing that existed was that moment. Rhett's arms  
holding her tightly. His muscles trembling with pleasure. His usual  
inscrutable dark expression was suddenly lit from some internal flame  
of passion and something else that she didn't have the faculty to  
decipher. It didn't matter. Scarlett felt safe and cherished and...  
almost loved. Even as her mind was made fuzzy by exhaustion as she  
tossed and turned in the night she couldn't convince herself that she  
was loved. Not by Rhett. Especially not after what happened afterward  
when he made it clear that she was no better than one of his whores  
who he would use and then toss aside after taking his pleasure.

No, she told herself, she was worse than a whore. The whores he at  
least seemed to enjoy being around. Once again she wondered why on  
earth he had married her. Rhett hated the home that she'd made for  
him. He was constantly taunting her abilities as a wife. He'd said he  
had married her to keep her as a pet but thus far she'd felt more like  
a farm animal than a beloved companion.

At dinner he'd reacted harshly to her suggestion that he only saw her  
as a brood mare but he didn't deny it. For all of his talk of not  
caring about children it was obvious that he was enamored with Bonnie.  
Charles hadn't lived to see his son born, but he probably would have  
acted like Ashley did around Beau- proud but detached. Frank had been  
excited about Ella, bragging about her like she was some type of  
trophy. But he hadn't actually been involved with holding her or  
caring for her day to day. On the other hand, Rhett carried Bonnie  
around like a child would a doll. Every smile and pout was exciting  
for him. He could stare at the tiny babe for hours and never grow  
tired of her.

Jealousy clenched Scarlett's heart for only the second time in her  
life. But this was even worse than the envy that she'd felt towards  
Melanie. That was always a hot feeling of loss at not having something  
she'd wanted. The type of feeling that you'd have when someone else  
would take the last piece of pie at the table. The emotion that now  
surged through her was cold. It was empty. Anyone else would have been  
able to identify it immediately as grief, but for all of her loss  
Scarlett has never truly felt that particular emotion. And so she was  
left wondering what it was that so gripped her now.

She was still in bed when she heard a key turn the lock and open.  
Quickly she snapped her eyes shut and turned to her side hoping he  
wouldn't see her weakness. She couldn't hear his light feet cross the  
room but she could feel him looking at her. After a moment the bed  
dipped as he sat next to her. She waited, anticipating what would  
happen next. Would it be like their honeymoon when he'd wake her with  
kisses or by playfully throwing back the covers? Or more businesslike  
as things had been between them lately- with him shaking her and  
calling her name with clear annoyance.

Minutes passed but there was nothing, not until the sudden strain of  
Bonnie's cries echoed through the room.

"You brought her here?" Scarlett said as she sat up, no longer trying  
to pretend she'd been asleep.

"I brought the children for breakfast. Ella and Wade are in the  
dinning room with Prissy. But Bonnie was hungry."

"Isn't that why we have a wet nurse?"

"Yes," he said, carefully passing the Bonnie to her mother, "But it's  
not the same. Nothing is as sweet as mother's milk." Scarlett blushed  
as she was reminded of Rhett's actions the night before and she  
suddenly felt very shy.

"Do you mind?" she said, as she began to remove the flimsy nightgown  
from one shoulder. Rhett took the cue and walked to the other side of  
the room, where Scarlett's back was facing. He pulled back the heavy  
draperies and the room was flooded with the morning sun. Scarlett kept  
her eyes closed while Bonnie fed, so she couldn't notice that Rhett  
was staring at the scene with clear adoration.

It was a rare moment of victory. For a brief moment he allowed himself  
think about what he'd managed to gain over the last years. Here he was  
watching the woman he loved, and who he'd shared a near religious  
experience with in this room the night before, feeding their child. If  
he was an artist he would paint a portrait of the sight; Scarlett's  
mussed hair falling down her back like a black waterfall as she softly  
rocked her child back and forth in one of those unconscious maternal  
displays that would sometimes break through her normal reserve.

The box in his suit pocket suddenly weighted him down. He'd only  
brought it along on an impulse but now he was thankful for it. After  
his actions last night she deserved something special. What she truly  
deserved was an apology, but since his pride refused to cooperate this  
gift would have to do.

With a skill acquired from years of sneaking around places he  
shouldn't have been he crossed the room silently until he was close  
enough to slip the jewelry on her slender neck.

"Rhett, she startled before being mesmerised by the strange charm on  
her body. It featured two intricately intertwined hearts fashioned out  
of silver and topped with a crown. It wasn't that the gift was  
terribly extravagant. In fact it was probably the most simple thing  
he'd ever given to her. But the sight reminded her of something, of  
her childhood at Tara and the freedom of existence before the war.  
They were memories from someone else, like trying to remember a story  
that you'd only been told once before.

"Do you like it?" he didn't hide his surprise, or pleasure, at that  
fact. "I hope you appreciate how much work it took to get it."

Bonnie had finished nursing and Scarlett struggled to cover herself  
while still holding the child. Wordlessly, Rhett reached over to  
gently take the now quiet babe from her arms. It was a much too  
intimate moment and Scarlett retreated to the more comfortable  
sparring position.

"Oh, Rhett, don't exaggerate. I'm not as naive as I used to be when  
I'd believe those stories about how you had to face the devil himself  
to bring me a gift. It's a very simple necklace. You probably just  
ordered it from one of those craftsmen from up north."

"To be exact it came from Edinburgh. Via Charleston, along various  
other stops along the way. And it would have been far easier to  
convince Mephistopheles to acquiesce to my demands than trying to talk  
my mother into eschewing the all important Butler family traditions."

Bonnie had now fallen into a deep sleep, her little mouth hanging open  
as her mother's often did. Rhett carefully placed her in the middle of  
the bed before helping Scarlett put on the simple blue day dress he'd  
brought for her to wear. Even though things had been tense for them  
lately at home there was something about this routine that caused them  
to slip back into their old personas so deftly. How many mornings had  
they spent in this room with Rhett dressing Scarlett in a gown he'd  
selected for her while he would talk about... anything really. Just  
words to keep her distracted from seeing how much he enjoyed their  
married life.

Because, truth be told, this was his favorite part of being married to  
Scarlett. Not the fact that he finally was able to have her in his  
bed, an experience which had been almost painfully disappointing when  
compared to his fantasies. He didn't even take that much pleasure in  
the envy he saw on other men's faces when they'd see Scarlett on his  
arm, for he knew that he wore the same expression when the topic of  
Ashley Wilkes came up. But the mundane moments of life together;  
dressing and dining and talking in the dark. Those were what he  
cherished.

"Your mother didn't want me to have this? I thought that she liked me.  
Although I'm sure that my Aunts haven't painted a very flattering  
picture."

"Believe it or not, Scarlett, it isn't always about you. No, mother's  
concern was more about keeping the old traditions constant. That  
particular necklace has been in my family since before the Butler's  
even came to the States. It was a Luckenbooth Broach, although it was  
fashioned into a pendant at some point along the way.

"I don't know where from but it just looks... like something I've seen before."

"It's based on a Celtic design. This particular piece was presented to  
James Butler, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, on the occasion of the birth  
of his son. It was tradition to place the broach on the child's  
swaddling blanket to keep away evil spirits."

Now dressed, Scarlett stood in place while Rhett began to brush back  
her hair. He tried to move her to the vanity but the previous nights  
events still burned in her mind, and she stayed rooted in place. She  
didn't need to see the mirror. By this point she trusted Rhett to be  
able to make her look her best.

"The Butler's are Irish? That certainly is surprising considering how  
many jabs you've made at my O'Hara heritage."

Rhett only laughed. Instantly his mind came up with a snapping retort,  
to explain that the Butler's were loyalists to the British crown. They  
were placed in power to keep rabble like the O'Hara's in line. That  
fact had been a source of deep conversation during the drunken night  
he'd spent with Scarlett's father. Rhett had made the mistake of  
trying to impress the man with his own Irish lineage only to be  
corrected in the truth, that the Butler's were Orangemen through and  
through.

But Rhett suppressed this bit of information, something he would  
normally have loved to hang over her head. Maybe it was the lingering  
guilt from his treatment of her the night before but he didn't want  
to upset the issue. So he only nodded, and continued with his story.

"The Butler's were indeed from Ireland. Although they eventually made  
their way over here during the war for Independence. They brought that  
little trinket with them. And for every generation it was presented on  
the occasion of the birth of the first son. Then, when that child grew  
up, he would present it to his own wife on that special day."

Turning her around to look at his handiwork on her simple hairstyle he  
smiled. "Now, it's yours. And when Bonnie is old enough we'll give it  
to her."

"But... I thought it went to the oldest son."

Rhett shrugged. "Now you sound like Mama. And, like I told her, that  
tradition is highly out of date. Bonnie is no less worthy of the  
Butler heirlooms just because she was lucky enough to be born a girl.  
Besides, I told her that there was always the chance that there  
wouldn't be any sons. A likelihood that now seems certain."

Scarlett's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"What's with that face? Have you changed your mind on enlarging our  
family, my pet?"

"No. But... I mean... well... it's going to happen eventually. It always does."

"Yes. For someone who doesn't enjoy children you are quite adept at  
having them. That's the other reason I brought Bonnie for her feeding  
this morning. By the time she's ready to be weened I'll have time to  
get something in place."

"Rhett," she snapped, "We can't talk about this." After a long pause  
her curiosity got the better of her. "What exactly can you put in  
place."

He laughed again. "Have you really never heard your lady friends  
talking about these things? About using a sponge or a sheath  
or...Scarlett, stop blushing. Haven't you ever wondered why all your  
Scallywag friends have such small families?"

She'd assumed that they had all just used the methods that she'd  
considered when she had first discovered she was carrying Bonnie.  
Either seeing a doctor to do the surgery or taking one of the teas  
that the old negro women would brew up. But they were dangerous  
and you'd sometimes hear about one of the white trash girls dying from  
them. The Yankee ladies never seemed to be in those situations, but  
they also only had children every four or five years. Not at all like  
the dozens of kids the Southern women had. Scarlett had never noticed  
this difference or considered its cause. Now, she couldn't stop  
thinking about the possibility. It made her feel powerful, but also  
deeply confused.

"So... you don't care if we don't have any more children? You're not  
going to care if you never have a son?"

In spite of his attempts to be kind to her he couldn't bite back the  
retort. "Are you that dense? Do I need to really repeat this again? It  
makes no difference we have one child or twenty. We have Wade, Ella,  
and Bonnie. That's certainly enough for me."

"But... if you don't want children then what was the point of... of..."

She was struggling to find the words and, for once, was grateful that  
he so deftly read her mind.

"Are you asking me why I want to continue our marital relations if not  
for procreation?"

"I wouldn't put it that bluntly but..."

"You still don't understand it, do you? You, who have so much  
familiarity with longing and wanting, you still don't understand what  
it is to desire someone. To want them so much that it borders on  
madness. Oh, I don't mean whatever it is you think you feel for Ashley  
Wilkes. I'm talking about burning passion." He closed his eyes and  
curbed his emotions. Things had been going so well this morning.  
Better than they'd been in a long time. Besides, it wasn't Scarlett's  
fault that she didn't know what he was talking about. But Rhett would  
make sure that she did understand, and his mind had already began to  
spin the perfect way to illustrate this lesson.

Tonight couldn't come soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

With her hair piled carefully on top of her head, Scarlett closed the door to the bathroom and let her eyes adjust to the dim candlelight.  
She skimmed the water of the bath with her hand to make sure that it wasn't too hot before disrobing and climbing in. The baths had become a nightly ritual for Scarlett. It started shortly after she'd married Frank Kennedy. At first it was just a way to feel good again, even if the water was usually tepid and barely covered her. During the hard days at Tara, when she was dirty from working the fields and sweat dried to her body in salty patches, she had neither the time nor the resources for a bath.

But soon she found herself spiriting away to the tub every night in search of escape. It was the only place where she was able to be free from Frank's nervously stuttering and Pitty's obnoxious tittering. It was her only chance to get away from Wade, who was constantly underfoot, and Ella, who was always crying to be held. Atlanta's hustle spoke to a certain part of Scarlett, but their was another part that missed the solitude that was accessible on the rolling fields of Tara. This was one small way to capture that feeling again.

The tradition continued after she'd married Rhett. She hadn't been sure how to bring the topic up to him, afraid of him laughing at her selfish need for solitude, but it had turned out to be a moot point. Each night in New Orleans, after shopping but before dressing for dinner, there would be a fresh bath drawn for her in the suite. Rhett would then excuse himself on some piece of vague business which she never questioned. She also never wondered how it was that her new husband seemed to know of this particular habit. Rhett had always seemed to know everything about her and she accepted this as just another aspect of that apparent omnipresence.

Scarlett sighed, letting her body sink deeper into the large-claw-footed tub. Rhett always seemed to know just what she needed, although he often seemed intent on using that knowledge against her. He'd known how very much she needed to dance at the Bazaar, and so he'd gotten her to compromise her reputation publicly. And at the jail, after he'd realized her deception, he knew how very much she needed the money, and twisted her into offering to be his mistress even though he knew that he couldn't help her.

And last night he knew how much she wanted him to stay- he must have known since he seemed to know everything else- but he'd walked out. It  
wasn't that he'd left her. Scarlett had long ago become used to the sight of Rhett Butler's back. What hurt was that only moments earlier  
she'd felt so precious and cherished. Sometimes she almost wished that he would just be a skunk all the time. At least she could be prepared  
for his actions. It was the constant bouncing between extremes that gave her emotional whiplash.

"Oh Rhett," she sighed.

"Yes, Scarlett."

Water went spilling over the sides of the tub as she bolted up. Rhett leaned against the closed door; his jacket and vest were gone, and the top two buttons of his fine white shirt had been released giving him a air of casualness that annoyed Scarlett to no end.

"Get out!"

"You don't mean that. Weren't you just calling for me a moment ago?"

His eyes focused on her breasts, exposed except for a few small soap bubbles. She'd been so shocked by his presence that she'd forgotten to even cover herself, but quickly she sank back below the water to retain some type of modesty.

"Mammy will be in here any minute and if she finds you here..."

He locked the door smoothly and walked to the edge of the tub. "I'm afraid Mammy is a little busy at the moment giving Bonnie her bath."

"But you always do that."

"Well, not tonight. Although, if you would like me to put my discovered bath giving skills to use..."

He lifted a sponge that was floating in the bathwater and squeezed it. For a moment Scarlett's throat went dry. Rhett's presence, so close and so cocky, stunned her senses. She slipped further into the tub. Still holding the sponge he moved behind her and sank to his knees. She could feel him close, his warm breath against her neck.

"Scarlett," he whispered, "What do you want?"

"Why?"

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours." He was gently moving the sponge along her shoulder and back with one hand and massaging her shoulder with the other. Her body relaxed, releasing tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

"I want you to leave," she said, her pitch raising at the end so that is sounded far more like a question than a request. Rhett's hands pulled away and for a moment she thought he might acquiesce. Unexpectedly the idea of him giving in worried her, so much that she almost asked him to stay. Fortunately his hands resumed their movements before she had to suffer that indignity. No, she wouldn't ask Rhett to stay. Wouldn't face him laughing at her weakness.

"You know what I think?" he asked, not waiting for a response. "I think that you can't answer the question because you don't know. Oh, there have been things that you thought you wanted, the fine Mr. Wilkes being the most obvious example, but those were just girlish desires. The whims of a child who is crying for the moon. I've often thought that comparison suits you well. Always longing after things that you can never have when the things that could make you happy are well within reach."

His hands worked around to the front of her neck, and then under the water where they slipped across her slick breasts too quickly for her to do anything but gasp. "Scarlett, you don't know what it is to want something that is right in front of you. To make it through each day with the torture of being right next to the thing you desire. Then, to finally get it only to discover that it isn't enough. It is like what happens when men lost at sea drink are so desperate that they drink salt water. It only makes their thirst greater and greater until they die from it."

He pulled his arms back up, unconcerned with the water that now drenched his shirt. Shifting to the side of the tub he placed his hand on Scarlett's chin, making her look into his eyes. "I know that words aren't your strong suit. We're men of action, not pretty speeches. Yet my actions on this subject haven't been clear to you, or you wouldn't be so curious as to why I wish to retain my marital rights. Let me be plain, I want you. I've wanted you from the moment we met. You don't know how hard I tried to find satisfaction in something, or someone else, but it never worked. It never could.

"But you don't understand," he said sadly, "You've never wanted something that way. To answer your earlier question, that's why I want to know what you want. I want you to know what it's like to have your deepest desire met, the way you meet mine whenever we are together."

His words thrilled her. They certainly shouldn't have. She should have been insulted and appalled by them. Instead they made her feel powerful. Enough that she felt safe to tell him the truth. "Rhett, this is pointless. I can't tell you what I want because there isn't anything." Nothing that you can give me, she added in her mind.

"Don't worry," he said, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, "By the end of this evening you'll find something to ask me for, I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

This section might get a re-write. But since I'm going to be spending November doing NaNoWriMo I wanted to get this up before I disappeared. I've struggled trying to give you all something worthy of the set up from the last chapter. We'll see about the payoff.

When Rhett lifted her out of the tub she was limp, allowing herself to be swept back in the overwhelming tide of his charisma as she had the other night. It was easy enough. Rhett's presence was always overwhelming and his seductive words earlier had left her feeling completely in his power.

This was what those silly books meant when they'd talk about a woman being seduced. What the matrons were always cautioning their daughters to avoid. She was helpless to do anything, but even if she'd been able to do something she didn't want to. It felt good to be out of control after having to spend so many years in command of everything.

"Scarlett," he said softly as he grabbed a large towel from the cabinet, "What do you want?"

He held the towel in his outstretched hands and wrapped it around her, pulling her closely to his chest. He released her after a moment and began moving the towel down her body, drying her carefully. As he worked down her slight frame his lips found stray drops of water, licking them away. He slid down from her breasts, her stomach, and the knelt on his knees before her as he dried her legs and feet.

"I asked you a question. Tell me what you want. I promise you, I'll do anything you ask."

"Anything? Even if I ask you to stop?"

Rhett's eyes were dark, like two black pools of tar that would only pull you in deeper the more you tried to get away. Even in this demeaning position, on bended knee before her, he exuded confidence and control. "Yes. If that's what you want. You need only ask and I'll obey."

He paused for a moment, waiting for her to dismiss him with a wave of her hand as if he were mere servant. But she only closed her eyes waiting for his next move. She'd always had a feline air about her, especially with her green cat eyes, but usually she was more tigress than the pussycat she now presented. He'd seen her like this only once before, the other night in the Honeymoon Suite. Then, as now, she was deceptively passive even as her body showed that she wanted this as much as him.

Rhett Butler was a man of the world. There was few things that could surprise him, even fewer that could truly shock, especially concerning the relations of men and women. He'd been raised as a Gentleman and, as such, had been taught that the only respectable excess involved women. The Drunkard was shunned as was The Glutton, but the womanizer would find tacit approval in the eyes of his peers as long as he followed the Hypocrite's Oath to frown in public at that which one did in private.

He might have left behind that life but not the women. The notion of sex as the most noble of ignoble pursuits remained ingrained in him as he traveled West, and East, to the outlaw towns of California and the old nations of Europe. He'd read the works of de Sade and Flaubert, finding the later disappointing considering the furor it had incited. In his research, much of it hand on, Rhett had heard of people who became excited by a loss of control. He'd never particularly understood it and certainly never expected to find such a predilection in a woman like Scarlett. How could the same woman who tensed on their wedding night when he'd been at his kindest turn into a wanton when he became harsh.

For a moment he considered simply taking her as he had before. To make violent love to her against the wall of the small bathroom with her moans echoing off the tile floors. When he'd turned the tables on Scarlett's attempt to ban him from her bed his only thoughts had been on revenge. On proving his domination of her body as the consolation prize for not having her heart. But things had changed. In the last 24 hours he'd been given a glimpse of the life he always wanted to share with Scarlett. And just as Scrooge was a changed man after seeing what might have been, Rhett now knew that he had to change also. He needed Scarlett to realize how much she wanted him. He needed her to say the words.

"Scarlett," he said again, "Tell me what you want."

She shook her head even as her lips pursed and her body pressed against his. He couldn't help but laugh... she wasn't going to make this easy.

"Well, I think you're dry now," he said, tossing the towel into the corner. "Are you sure there isn't anything else that you want?"

She only shook her head. Scarlett didn't dare open her mouth over concern at what might come out. He laughed again, although she had no idea what he found so funny, and quickly tossed her wrap on her shoulders before lifting her into his arms. His chest was bare and so warm that it almost seared Scarlett's cheek, although she ended up pushing herself deeper into his arms. She'd briefly looked as though she was going to protest as he opened the door to the bathroom but it hadn't been necessary. "Everyone is down at supper," he'd explained as he carried her to her room.

With great care he sat her at her vanity bench. Before he kneeled at her feet to picked up a bottle of perfumed oil from the table and poured a small amount in his hands. Without a word he reached for her ankle, massaging it with his slicke hands and then caressing upwards. He hands were reaching underneath her dressing gown but, to Scarlett's chagrin, not to the places that she wanted. Instead Rhett was focused on working the vanilla scented oil into her calves and behind her knees. He'd begin at her ankles and then work upwards to some invisible boundary and then back down. Slowly that boundary shifted northwards, and with each journey along her body he was closer to the place she truly needed touched.

"Scarlett. What do you want?" Her small teeth grabbed at her lower lip but she shook her head again.

Rhett kept taking even as his hands moved higher until she could feel his knuckles occasionally brush past the hair at her entrance. Once she even tried shifting her hips in order to try and find some release but he'd pulled away. It was shameful but Rhett didn't seem to notice, at least he didn't say anything except, "What do you want?"

Like a parrot with a limited vocabulary, Rhett kept coming back to variations on that one question. When he led her to the bed and pulled off her dressing gown he asked her again. When she was lying on the bed, face down, while he massaged the oil into her back he repeated it. His strong body was on top of hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress in the most delightful way, as he whispered the question into her ear. Still, she was mute.

He pulled back suddenly. Scarlett turned her neck, trying to see what was happening. She'd expected to watch Rhett disrobing but instead he was pulling on his shirt. He was going? Running away again? She turned her face back into the covers and tried to muffle the words that were spilling out of her mouth.

"Stay. I want you to stay."

His hand hovered on the doorknob. "What did you say?"

"I want you to stay. You said you'd do whatever I wanted and what I want..."

He'd been expecting her to ask him to ravish her. He'd fantasized about watching her beg for pleasure. Somehow this was even better. It wasn't just physical release that she wanted but him in particular. Quickly shedding his clothes he crawled back on the bed where she still lay on her stomach, her face pressing into the comforter. She didn't dare look up for fear that he was gone. It wasn't until he felt his body that she opened her eyes again.

"You just want me to stay? There's nothing else you want?"

Scarlett pushed her hips up slightly so that she could feel his manhood hovering close to her core.

"You know what I want."

He pressed his lips along her back. "I do. But I want you to say it."

There was something about this unusual position, her back to him, that made her feel safe. He couldn't see her easily readable face. She couldn't look for any signs of mocking in his. And so, she finally let the words come out. "I want to feel you inside of me."

The sentence was not even out of her mouth when he complied, driving himself deeply into her. It was the first carnal request she made to her husband, but it wasn't the last.


End file.
